


Where We Go When We Die

by Dragonesse12592



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2020-11-27 19:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20953679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonesse12592/pseuds/Dragonesse12592
Summary: After the events of Endgame Tony is sent back in time to 2008, and wakes up in Afghanistan. With the knowledge of what will happen is it possible for him to save hundreds of lives that were lost before, and maybe even defeat Thanos the first time around?Notice: Tags and ratings will be updated as the story is written.





	1. Awake

**Author's Note:**

> I would recommend keeping Google Translate at hand, it might save you having to scroll all the way down to the bottom to find translations. Problem is Google Translate is unreliable. However the majority of statements are translated in the story, due to some characters (Tony) not understanding some of the languages (Urdu). 
> 
> Disclaimer: As of yet I do not own any characters in the story, they all belong to Marvel.

My right arm burned. Hell, my whole body felt like it was on fire. I could hear people around me, someone sitting near me, a hand on my left shoulder, but I couldn’t hear. I could see the dark sky, the mounds of earth that had been pushed aside like sand before the ocean, and Pepper, kneeling next to me, a soft smile on her face. Her mouth was moving, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. The world was getting dark, and as much as I fought it, it kept darkening. She must have sensed my concern because she leaned in and pressed her lips to my forehead. When she spoke this time I could hear her.  
“You can rest now,” She whispers, and I feel myself slipping.  
I struggle for a moment against the darkness around me, but her words re-assure me. I’ll wake up in a few moments, and everything will be okay.

I gasped and my eyes flew open. My chest felt like it was on fire, and I didn’t recognize where I was. I looked around, wondering why the room was dark, none of the medical wings I had ever built were this dark. Was the power out? Was I dead?  
I shivered, and slowed my breathing. I needed to calm down. I wasn’t dead, I could tell that from the gentle pressure of a bandage wrapped around my chest. The air was cold, and I could feel the prickliness of nigh frozen nose hairs as I breathed. As I breathed in and out through my nose I became aware of a tube, and reached up before pulling it out of my nose, groaning as I did. I threw it to the side and slowly opened my eyes again, not realizing I had let them fall closed.  
Above me the ceiling was rocky, like the roof of a cave, and around the edges were LED strips. I rolled my head so that I could see if there was anyone nearby. To my left, there was a table, with a jug of water on it. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until then. I shivered again before reaching for the table. My hands were uncoordinated, likely from being asleep for a long time, and I knocked a small metal bowl onto the floor in my clumsiness. I sighed before rolling more fully onto my side to reach for the water, when I heard someone cough.  
I glanced, startled, towards where the sound had come from and saw a man standing by a post about halfway across the room. From where I lay it looked like they were shaving.  
I stared at them for a moment before looking back to the water jug. The man was likely my captor, so the water might be poisoned, but it was unlikely, seeing as how if they wanted me dead I wouldn’t still be alive. The only question I really had was how I had gotten here so quickly after Thanos had died, when I had passed out next to Pepper I had been surrounded by Avengers. I must have been in a coma of some kind. I frowned, and focused again on the water jug.  
Maybe if I got the jug I could throw it at the man by the post and then be able to get away. I rolled further over, reaching for the water jug when I felt a tug in my chest and heard something behind me slide across a metal surface.  
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” my captor said.  
I frowned looking over my shoulder, before rolling onto my back and looking to my right. I frowned at what I saw. Sitting on the table to the right side of the mattress I was laying on was a car battery? I reached out and grabbed the negative wire, and tugged it gently. As I pulled on the wire, I felt a pressure easing in my chest. I looked at my chest in confusion, and saw the gauze that I had recognized before when I was trying to calm down.  
I acted in a panic, tearing at the gauze on my chest, struggling with the way the fabric clung to itself, before finally ripping it up and away from my chest in a last desperate pull.  
I stared blankly at my chest when I looked down again. The arc reactor was buried in my chest, but it wasn’t glowing, it wasn’t… there wasn’t any light.  
I fell back against the pillows and blinked up at the ceiling, suddenly recognizing it. It was the same ceiling I had lain under all those years ago back in Afghanistan, back before I was Iron Man, back before I was married and had Morgan, back before there was anything in my life worth living for. I blinked a few times before I felt myself drift back to sleep.

I awoke later to the smell of food, but not Hamburgers like Happy would have brought me, probably something Bruce had brought, going by the overly natural smell of it. But there was something else, something else in the air, some smell that made me doubt where I was, that made the memory from the dream come trickling back into my mind. I frowned and opened my eyes slowly. I blinked a little in the low light, before propping myself up on my elbows and looking around. I was defiantly in a cave, one that was concerningly close in design to the cave I had been held in in Afghanistan. After a moment my captor realized I was awake and walked over.  
I frowned when I finally got a good look at the man, his face was gaunt and he had wire-rimmed glasses. His hair was grey and thinning, and the top of his head was bald. He had the remanence of a goatee on his chin, and his eyes were a warm chocolate brown. His soft gaze reminded me of someone… who’s name wouldn’t quite settle in my mind.  
He helped me sit up and then went back to the frying pan he had over the fire. I stared at him for a long while before the name came to me.  
“Yinsen” I whispered his name under my breath. I shook my head. It couldn’t be Yinsen, he was dead, he had sacrificed himself so that I could get out of the cave 15 years ago. The cave so similar to the one I was in right now. After a moment or two, I decided that whoever or whatever designed this knew about Afghanistan, and the Ten Rings’ base there. I shuddered at the thought. I had been positive that I had ended the Ten Rings 10 years ago in 2013.  
I looked up to not-Yinsen and frowned when I recognized the tune he was whistling. I blinked and looked away. Of course I recognized it. It was the song he had whistled that first night in the cave. I sighed and finally spoke.“What the hell did you do to me?”  
Not-Yinsen looked over to me, probably surprised by my cursing. He studied me for a moment before he chuckled. “What I did?” he asked, a soft smile finding its way onto his face. He looked back to the frying pan, his smile slipping. “What I did is to save your life.”  
I froze. Yinsen had said the exact same words. I focused on keeping my breathing steady as I looked down at my hands where they were clenched in my lap.  
“I removed all the shrapnel I could, but there’s a lot left, and it’s headed into your atrial septum,” not-Yinsen said, eyes not leaving whatever he was cooking. After a moment he reached down to the side and picked up something, a small glass vial I already knew held the shrapnel that not-Yinsen had taken out of my chest. Not-Yinsen walked over to me with the vial in his hand.  
“I have a souvenir. Take a look.” He tossed it to me when he was close. I didn’t look away from him as I caught it, letting it rest in my hand for a moment.  
Not-Yinsen returned to the pan on the fire, and I held the vial up to the light so I could see what was inside. I rolled it between my fingers, watching the achingly familiar way the pieces inside rolled.  
After a moment not-Yinsen began to speak. “I’ve seen many wounds like that in my village. We call them the walking dead because it takes about a week for the barbs to reach the vital organs.”  
I looked down at the fire before I next spoke. “What is this?”  
“That is an electromagnet,” not-Yinsen said, and I frowned. Not-Yinsen was speaking about the arc reactor, not the fake reality we were in. A nagging voice in the back of my head suggested that this was real, I was back in 2008, but I shut it out before it could say any more.  
“Hooked up to a car battery,” not-Yinsen continued as if he was unaware I hadn’t been speaking of the contraption in my chest. “And it’s keeping the shrapnel from entering your heart.” he smiled kindly, before nodding and looking back to the frying pan.  
I sighed when not-Yinsen looked back to the frying pan, slightly annoyed that he hadn’t understood what I was asking. I shifted and zipped up my hoodie, trying to block out the cold air. I looked over to where I knew a security camera to be located on the cave wall. Not-Yinsen looked over when I didn’t reply, and followed my line of sight to spy the camera.  
“That’s right,” he said sarcastically, “Smile.” Not-Yinsen looked back at the pan for a moment before looking back to me. “We met once, you know, at a technical conference in Bern,” he said.  
I winced to myself. I already knew what was coming. Bern, ah yes, Yinsen said that if he had been as drunk as I had he wouldn’t have been able to walk.  
“I don’t remember much of it,” I said to not-Yinsen.  
“No, you wouldn’t. If I had been that drunk, I wouldn’t have been able to stand, much less give a lecture on integrated circuits.” I looked off to the side, tired of not getting a straight answer.  
“Where are we?” I asked, hoping this time not-Yinsen would give me a straight answer.  
But before not-Yinsen could answer me, there was a voice at the door and a lock clicked. Not-Yinsen hurried over to me, calling under his breath, “Come on, stand up. Stand up!” I grabbed the car battery as he grasped my arm and pulled me up. He stared harshly at me and spoke.  
“Just do as I do,” He insisted as he pulled me towards the center of the room, eyes locked on mine the whole time. “Come on, put your hands up,” he said quickly, pushing the arm he had up, before throwing his own up as well. I frowned at not-Yinsen, who despite what I had assumed, wasn’t my captor after all.  
I wanted to slap myself for having to be reminded that Yinsen wasn’t the bad guy in 2008, so it was unlikely that he was now.  
I looked to the door and stared down the three men that entered. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that not-Yinsen was watching me, but I was more focused on the guns the three men held. They were an old 2005 assault rifle model that had been taken off the market because of problems with the shock absorbers. I winced when I recognized that they were guns I had designed.  
The man who stood in the middle of the group was one I recognized from my brief stay in Afghanistan in 2008. He was the man that had inspected my progress on the Mark I. He was rather round, and had a thick grey beard.  
He lifted his arms into the air and began speaking Urdu, a language I only recognized thanks to what Yinsen had taught me in our sparse free time back in 2008. As he spoke he walked towards us “آپ کا استقبال ہے ، امریکہ کی تاریخ کا سب سے مشہور قتل عام کرنے والا ، ٹونی اسٹارک کا یہاں آپ کو خوش رکھنا خوشی ہے۔” When he reached the us he paused. After a moment he gestured to not-Yinsen.  
“He says ‘Welcome, Tony Stark, the most famous mass murderer in the history of America’,” not-Yinsen said with a wince, half looking at me, and half at the other man.  
Not-Yinsen quietly told me that the other man said he was honored.  
“ہمیں عزت دی جاتی ہے۔” the man said, a sickening smile still plastered on his face.  
Not-Yinsen quietly told me that the man said he was honored.  
The man reached inside his vest and pulled out a piece of rolled up paper with torn edges, and when he unfurled it I didn’t look, not willing to back down from the intense glare I had pinned on him.  
“میں چاہتا ہوں کہ آپ مجھے یہ میزائل بنائیں۔” The grey bearded man said.  
“He wants you to build the missile,” not-Yinsen told me, voice unwavering, but clearly afraid.  
“جس کا آپ نے مظاہرہ کیا۔ جیریکو” The man said as threw his arms wide, his voice angry, and a stern look on his face.  
“The Jericho missile that you demonstrated,” not-Yinsen told me quietly.  
The grey bearded man held out the piece of paper and said “for him,” in a rough voice, gesturing to me, before handing the paper to not-Yinsen. Not-Yinsen held the paper out in front of us so that I could see the picture of the Jericho missile. “This one,” he said.  
I stared at the other man, feeling but an inch tall. I knew what would happen, I knew the repercussions of my answer, and I was afraid of the punishment I would receive. I did not want to relive the torture I had endured 15 years ago in Afghanistan, but at the same time, I would not build a bomb for those who wished to kill innocents. I would abandon the person I had grown to be, the man I had become in the past 15 years.  
I would not build a bomb.  
“I refuse.”  
The man’s face fell, his eyes angry and distant, before he turned and gestured over his shoulder, and said “اسے پکڑو” to the men standing near him. From my rough understanding of Urdu he had told them to grab me. Two of the men standing behind him rushed forward and grabbed my arms, dragging me along behind the man, confirming my rough interpretation.  
They dragged me through tunnels and around a couple bends, before opening a thick metal door and pushing me through. The grey bearded man who had spoken to not-Yinsen and I earlier then grabbed me by my hair and dragged me across the room to a bucket in the corner, where water was dripping off of the rocks. The bucket was filled with frigid water, which stunned me briefly as the man shoved my head mercilessly into the water.  
I held my breath, and as my lungs began to burn the man finally lifted my head out of the water. I gasped, and felt the water dripping down my face, leaving an odd tingling sensation around my mouth and nose.  
The man pulled my head back and looked at me. “Jericho,” he said calmly.  
“No,” I rasped.  
He pushed my head back under the water, and I felt the tingling sensation stronger around my mouth and nose. I also felt it worming it’s way into my ear, causing me to squirm in the man’s grasp, unsure of what it might be. He pushed my head farther under the water as I squirmed, and I immediately went lax in his grip, not wanting to provoke him. He waited a moment or two longer before bringing me back to the surface.  
When he pulled me back to the surface he looked at my face, but didn’t ask me about the Jericho, only smiled coldly, his beard shifting oddly as he did. He pushed my head back under the water, and held me there for a while.  
When he pulled me back out I opened my mouth to gasp, only to have my head shoved back under the water, my mouth still open and inhaling. Water rushed into my mouth, and I began to cough, more water sinking into my lungs with every cough.  
I began to struggle, thrashing back and forth, hoping to dislodge the man’s hand from where it gripped my hair. The harder I struggled the stronger his grasp seemed to grow. I shut my mouth after a moment, finally realizing that if I coughed underwater I would only get more water into my lungs.  
The tingling sensation around my mouth and nose grew more pronounced for a moment, and then the water on my face was falling away. I coughed, and some of the water I had inhaled came out. I began gasping in air, too out of it to realize that it shouldn’t be possible. The man then yanked my head back out of the water, and the tingling sensation became softer. I coughed, trying to understand how I had managed to breathe underwater. The grey bearded man let me cough for a minute, before leaning in front of me so that he could see my face.  
“Jericho?” He asked again.  
“No,” my voice was cracked when I replied, but as firm as an almost drowned man’s could be.  
He scratched his beard, little bits of dandruff falling out as he did, before leaning back behind me again so that I could no longer see him. His hand settled in my hair before forcing my head back down into the water.  
The tingling sensation around my nose and mouth grew strong again, and the water, despite hitting my eyes and cheeks, didn’t reach my nose and mouth. I took a careful breath through my nose, and was relieved to find that I was indeed breathing. It wasn’t a moment later that I heard FRIDAY in my ear.  
“Sir are you alright? There were pieces of shrapnel near your atrial septum, I used a couple nanobots to clump them together and plaster them to the underside of the electromagnet that is in your chest,” FRIDAY said.  
“Thank you FRIDAY,” I said. “With the bots that you used to contain the shrapnel eliminated, do we have enough to complete a suit?”  
The grey-bearded man pulled my head back out of the water, I squirmed as he held my hair in his grasp, terrified that he might have seen me breathing while my head was submerged, but all that he did was push my head back under again.  
“Yes sir, we do. Would you like to suit up?” FRIDAY asked as my head was pushed back into the water.  
“No, keep the suit tucked away, there’s an innocent farther in that I have to get out,” I said, Yinsen hovering at the forefront of my mind.  
“Alright sir,” Friday said, quieting as the grey bearded man pulled my head out of the water.  
There was only a moment of silence before he pushed my head back under.

Hours later the grey bearded man threw me back into the cave with not-Yinsen, his face cold, but with a slight smirk. As soon as he closed the door I picked my self up, and hefted the car battery over my shoulder. “Yinsen! I need help.”  
“What’s wrong?” not-Yinsen asked, looking up from where he was sitting by the fire.  
“Uh, we’re stuck in a cave and being held captive by terrorists,” I said, walking towards the fire, and sitting down net to not-Yinsen and placing the car battery on the ground next to me.  
“There is no way you can get out of here, Stark. Even though they want you to build them a missile they will not hesitate to kill you if you try to escape,” not-Yinsen said, concern in his gaze.  
“Yeah, but they can’t kill me if their bullets can’t reach me, now can they?” I asked, a small smile on my face as I gazed into the fire.  
Not-Yinsen frowned and looked at me. “What makes you think their bullets can’t hit you?” he asked.  
I lifted my right hand from where it rested on my leg and waited for FRIDAY to cover it with the nano bot suit.  
Not-Yinsen’s eyes widened comically when he saw the suit cover my gloved hand, shimmering gently as I turned it in the fire light.  
“What is that?” not-Yinsen hissed as he lay down the wooden spoon he had been stirring dinner with, and reached over to push my hand back towards my body, away from where it might be seen by a camera.  
“Our ticket out of here. It’s bullet proof,” I said, a small smirk on my face, as the suit sank back into my skin.  
“Oh, wow. When did you make it?” He asked quietly, still looking at my hand.  
“I made the first version of it 15 years ago,” I said, looking at him intently, expecting him to correct me.  
“Impressive,” He said, quietly, glancing up to meet my eyes before looking back to my had where the suit had been.  
I frowned for a moment when he didn’t correct me, but quickly flashed a smile and said “With some other pieces already made we could make you a suit as well.”  
Not-Yinsen looked up at me, surprised. “What for?”  
“To get you out of here, and don’t ask me why I’m doing it. I’m doing it ‘cause it’s the right thing to do,” I said, a glare pointed at not-Yinsen.  
Not-Yinsen frowned and tilted his head a little. “How are you to build a suit if the men won’t give you the materials?” He asked after a moment.  
“That’s the thing. As long as I agree to build them a missile, they’ll give me anything I say I need to build it. And hey, if the things I say I need to build a missile are actually things I need to build you a suit, then well, it’s their fault for thinking I would comply” I said, smiling at the fire.

The next morning the grey bearded man came to the door. I smiled when I saw him, and a nickname fell into place. Greybeard. His goons walked towards me without a word from him, and I pick up my car battery, expecting to be roughly grabbed, before putting my hands in the air.  
“I’ll do it,” I said, carefully keeping my face clear of a smirk.  
“وہ اسے تعمیر کرے گا۔” Not-Yinsen said loudly to Graybeard.  
“Urdu for ‘He’ll build it’” FRIDAY whispered.  
Greybeard smiled widely, and motioned for the men behind him to grab me, “اس کے چہرے کو ڈھانپیں۔”  
“Cover his face” FRIDAY translated.  
The men walked forward and pulled a rough mesh bag over my head before leading not-Yinsen and I out of the cave.  
I counted our paces as we walked. 41 steps, and then there was a door that was opened and closed. Then 16 steps, a sharp right turn, 33 steps and then a soft right turn, 4 steps, and then the bag was being pulled off of my head. I blinked quickly in the bright light, my eyes stinging from being in the cave for so long.  
Greybeard and his goons led us down past arrangements of Stark Industry weapons. I stared at the weapons, calculating how much fire power it would take to light them all off so that there would be nothing left.  
We stopped about two hundred feet from the cave, and Greybeard threw his arms wide as he spoke, “آپ کیا سوچتے ہیں؟”  
“Urdu for ‘What do you think’” FRIDAY whispered even as not-Yinsen began to translate.  
“He wants to know what you think,” not-Yinsen said.  
I looked at Greybeard. “I think you got a lot of my weapons,” I said.  
Greybeard began to speak again, walking past not-Yinsen and I and up towards the cave. “ہم آپ کو یریحو میزائل تعمیر کرنے کی ضرورت ہے سب کچھ ہے. میں چاہتا ہوں کہ آپ مواد کی ایک فہرست بنائیں۔ آپ فوری طور پر یہ کام شروع کرنے کے لئے ہیں، اور آپ کیا کر رہے ہیں جب، میں تمہیں جان سے مار دیں گے.” when he was done, he nodded to not-Yinsen.  
“We have everything you need to build the Jericho missile. I want you to make a list of materials. You are to begin working it immediately, and when you're done, I will kill you.” FRIDAY said quietly.  
As FRIDAY finished not-Yinsen was just behind her, finishing his translation with “-you're done, he will set you free.”  
Greybeard reached out his hand for me to shake, an expectant smile on his face, and I reached out as well, shaking it before smiling and saying “No, he won’t,” to not-Yinsen.  
Not-Yinsen smiled and nodded his head to Greybeard. Greybeard smiled wider, and we were led back to the cave.


	2. Building Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would recommend keeping Google Translate at hand, it might save you having to scroll all the way down to the bottom to find translations. However the majority of statements are translated in the story, due to some characters (Tony, Yinsen & Raza) speaking non-english languages (French, Russian, Arabic, Urdu). 
> 
> Disclaimer: As of yet I do not own any characters in the story, they all belong to Marvel.

About twenty minutes after the men who had set up the cave with metalworking tools left, Not-Yinsen and I pulled out the first missile and I began gutting it. Not-Yinsen hovered over my shoulder the whole time, interested in what I was doing. After a while of him hovering over my shoulder I decided to see what other information I could get out of him.  
“How many languages do you speak?” I asked, my eyes firmly locked on the missile, already half anticipating his response.  
“A lot,” was Not-Yinsen’s reply. “But apparently not enough for this place.”  
I laughed gently.  
“They speak Arabic, Urdu, Dari, Pashto, Mongolian, Farsi, Russian,” Not-Yinsen stopped, and watched as I pulled out the guts of the missile I had been working on.  
“Who are these people?” I asked while setting it down.  
“They are your loyal customers, sir,” Not-Yinsen said.  
I looked at him, bewildered that he hadn’t answered my question.  
“They call themselves the ten rings,” not-Yinsen continued, raising one eyebrow before looking back to the missile I was gutting.  
I looked back at the guts of the missile, resigning myself to the possibility that not-Yinsen didn’t actually know what was going on.  
“You know we might be more productive if you include me in the planning process” not-Yinsen said, pulling me from my thoughts.  
I looked down to where I had the head of the missile I was gutting in my hands. “Yuh-huh,” I said, tossing the head of the missile onto the table by my tools. I reached into the missile and pulled out the palladium housing. I quickly detached the palladium, and put it down in the little metal dish that was sitting next to me. “Okay, we don’t need this,” I said to myself, throwing the palladium housing over my shoulder, ignoring the noise it made when it hit the ground. I noticed not-Yinsen watch it out of the corner of my eye.  
“What is that?” not-Yinsen asked, probably referring to the palladium housing I had just thrown over my shoulder.  
I carefully picked up the palladium shard from where it lay in the metal dish and showed it to him. “That’s palladium, .15 grams. We need at least 1.6, so why don’t we go break down the other 11?” I asked, looking up to him from where I was sitting on a stool.  
He raised his eyebrows for a moment before frowning and placing the palladium housing in front of me. “Don’t throw things around, I won’t set your ankle if you trip and fall,” not-Yinsen said.  
I nodded, pushing the palladium housing closer to the center of the table. “Duly noted,” I said, grabbing the metal dish with the palladium in it, and standing. “So, you wanna help, or should I continue on my own?” I asked, walking over to the table where the other missiles had been stored.  
Not-Yinsen sighed, and walked over beside me, “It’s not like I have anything else to do,” he said, gabbing a missile as I did and watched me pull it apart.

While Yinsen was working on the last few missiles I began packing sand into a smelting cup and shaping a ring for Yinsen to pour the palladium into. As I was finishing up not-Yinsen walked over with the metal dish we had been collecting the palladium in.  
“I’ve got eleven, what are we using it for?” he asked, tilting his head as he looked at the mold I was forming.  
“A ring,” I said, not meeting not-Yinsen’s eyes. I grabbed another smelting cup and held it out so that not-Yinsen could put the Palladium in it.  
Not-Yinsen dumped the palladium shards into the smelting cup, before taking it from my hands. “How hot am I making this?” he asked.  
“1825 kelvin,” I called out as not-Yinsen walked back towards the furnace.  
“How will I know when it’s that hot?” not-Yinsen called over his shoulder.  
“The palladium will melt,” I quipped, not looking at him.  
Not-Yinsen hummed and I went back to focusing on the sand mold.

“Careful, we only get one shot at this,” I murmured as not-Yinsen carried the melted palladium over to the sand mold.  
“Relax, I have steady hands. Why do you think your still alive? Huh?” Not-Yinsen asked as he poured the palladium into the mold.  
I watched tensley as he poured the palladium. “I don’t think you’ve told me your name, what should I call you?” I asked as Not-Yinsen finished.  
“My name is Yinsen,” He said, placing the smelting cup on the table.  
“Nice to meet you,” I said, looking to the rapidly cooling ring.  
Yinsen looked over at me as I spoke, surprise showing on his face. “Nice to meet you too.”

Not-Yinsen hovered over my shoulder as I worked on the arc reactor, carefully wrapping the copper wires, and aligning the palladium ring. He wandered over to the stove when I got into the fine wiring, probably beginning to make dinner. I called him over when I had finished.  
“Oh, That doesn’t look like a Jericho missile,” not-Yinsen said when he saw the finished arc reactor.  
“That’s because it’s an arc reactor. We got one powering my factory at home. Should be enough to power your suit,” I said, looking down at the rough build of the reactor.  
“But what could it generate?” Not-Yinsen asked as he frowned at it.  
“If my math is right, three gigajoules per second,” I said.  
Not-Yinsen’s eyebrows chased his receding hairline. His eyes flickered between me and the reactor for a moment before whispering “wow.”  
I hummed quietly as we looked at it. “What’d you say we power it up?” I asked.  
Not-Yinsen nodded and grabbed one of the electricity cables and handed it to me.  
I thanked him and plugged the arc reactor into it and watched as the power transferred. The lights in the room flickered as the arc reactor sucked the energy out of the room.  
FRIDAY suddenly notified me that the cameras were down. I whipped my head around to look at the cameras. The red lights had indeed gone out. I frowned trying to figure out why they would have gone dead, when the lights over the workbench turned back on, and the red lights on the cameras flickered back to life.  
I looked over to the arc reactor to see that it was fully charged, and the power drain to the room had stopped. That’s when it hit me. The camera’s energy was routed to the same source as the rest of the room, so whenever the room was out of power, so were the cameras.  
I looked down to the arc reactor lay humming on the workbench. It may have just provided the answer to keeping the ten rings from knowing about the fine tuning of the mark 1.

We had talked about it as we were pulling the missiles appart, but I was still nervous as I lay down on the bed and tried to steady my breathing. Not-Yinsen came to sit beside me, his tools spread out on my other side.  
“Remember, you are perfectly safe, nothing will go wrong. I’m just taking this out and stitching you up,” Yinsen said, laying a hand on my chest and tapping the electromagnet with his pointer finger, a calm expression on his face.  
I nodded, thanking god that FRIDAY was using the nanobots to keep everything vital away from the electromagnet so that nothing would be damaged when it was removed. “Okay, yeah, it’d probably be best to just get on with it and not let me think too much about it,” I said, closing my eyes and waiting for Yinsen to put the chloroform rag over my mouth and nose.  
The rag wasn’t as heavy as I remembered it from previous encounters, likely because Yinsen wasn’t putting pressure on it, but rather using his hand that wasn’t on my chest to card gently through my hair.  
I sighed as I drifted off, my mind far away by the time Yinsen stopped stroking my hair.

I awoke later to a tightness around my torso, and when I gently pushed myself into a sitting position I realized it was from the bandages that Yinsen had wrapped around my torso. I looked up and found Yinsen sitting by the fire. “Combien de temps ai-je dormi?” I asked.  
Not-Yinsen looked up from where he was sitting by the fire, a frown on his face. “I don’t… what?” he asked, getting up to come help me stand up.  
I blinked for a moment before trying again. “как долго я спал?”  
Yinsen blinked in surprise, before responding. “Я закончил около 15 минут назад.”  
I nodded, letting Not-Yinsen help me to my feet. “Где электромагнит?” I asked, looking over to the fire where Not-Yinsen had been preparing dinner.  
“Вот,” Not-Yinsen replied, picking it up from the side table, and handing it to me.  
I turned it in my hands, noticing the dried blood that was crusted to the outside. I looked over to the side table at the clump of metal in the little metal dish. Not-Yinsen noticed what I was looking at and handed it to me. When he dropped it into my hand the nanobots melted into my skin, and left a pile of shrapnel sitting in my hand. I rolled it around a little, before holding out my had to dump the shrapnel into not-Yinsen’s hand.  
He frowned at the shrapnel when it landed in his hand. He thumbed through it as I spoke to FRIDAY.  
“FRIDAY, avez-vous pu entrer en contact avec JARVIS?” I asked her quietly.  
“No sir, I have tried, but we appear to be resting in a radio dead zone, my apologies,” FRIDAY responded.  
“Non ça va,” I said, looking over to where not-Yinsen had been cooking dinner once again.  
Not-Yinsen looked up when my stomach rumbled, and smiled gently, before dumping the shrapnel back into the metal dish, and reaching out a hand to help me up. “It’s almost done, we can eat in a couple minutes,” he said as he helped me to my feet.

Later in the evening I were sitting near the fire when not-Yinsen approached me. He sat down beside me and just watched the fire for a while. I had almost forgotten he was there when he spoke.  
“Do you think your plan will work?” he asked, eyes focused on the fire.  
I frowned. “I’m not sure, I hope it will, but it really all depends on whether or not I can stall them for long enough for your suit to boot up,” I said honestly.  
Not-Yinsen frowned. “And your sure your suit will protect you?” He asked finally looking to me.  
“Yeah, it always has before, there’s no reason to fail now,” I said, meeting his eyes out of the corner of mine.  
Not-Yinsen nodded and looked back to the fire. We sat like that until the fire died down and the only light in the room came from the glowing embers.

Through the next few months not-Yinsen and I dedicated our every waking moment to constructing Yinsen’s suit. As we worked we talked about anything and everything that crossed our minds. One day I asked him about his frequent shaving.  
He replied, “If you look like an animal, you’re bound to start acting like one,” fully focused on attaching the belts on his suit’s legs.  
I opened my mouth to comment, when the door-slat opened.  
“Hé! Jinszen! Felkelni!” The man at the door screamed.  
Yinsen and my heads both snapped up at the noise.  
“Hey. Yinsen, get up,” FRIDAY hurriedly translated.  
Not-Yinsen and I scuttled out from behind the jig we were constructing Yinsen’s armor on. We walked around the jig and into the center of the room with our hands above our heads.  
A new man walked through the doors. New being that I had never seen him before. At least not that I remembered. Not-Yinsen seemed to recognize him though, and looked away, avoiding eye contact.  
“Raza Gould, Commander of the Ten Rings, leader of the Southern Afghan division. In 2023 we knew he had been coordinating with Obadiah Stane, and supplied Stane with the original blueprints for the Iron Monger. Stane had also asked Gould to order the hit on you, and was the reason your convoy heading back from the presentation,” FRIDAY informed me as Raza surveyed the room.  
After a moment Raza looked over to us and said, “Relax,” while waving his hand.  
Not-Yinsen slowly lowered his hands, almost like he was afraid this was a trick.  
“The bow and arrow were once was the pinnacle of weapons technology. It allowed the great Genghis Khan to rule from the Pacific to the Ukraine. An empire twice the size of Alexander the Great, and four times the size of the Roman Empire,” Raza began, walking around the room. “But today,” He said, as he lifted the blueprints I had made for Yinsen’s suit and gave them a cursory glance, “Whoever holds the latest Stark weapons rules these lands. And soon, it will be my turn,” He finished, dropping the blueprints back on the table.  
“ما يحدث في الواقع هنا؟” Raza asked, turning on not-Yinsen.  
FRIDAY began translating. “What is really going on here?” she offered.  
“لا شيء ، نحن نعمل” not-Yinsen replied, his face calm  
“Nothing, we are working,” FRIDAY translated.  
“لقد مضى وقت طويل ، أين صاروخي؟” Raza questioned, walking towards not-Yinsen.  
“It’s been a long time, where’s my missile?” FRIDAY proctored  
“إنه يعمل بجد ، الصاروخ معقد للغاية.” not-Yinsen said, trying to calm Raza.  
“He’s working very hard, the missile is very complex,” FRIDAY translated.  
“اس کے گھٹنوں پر ہو جاؤ,” Raza all but growled at the men standing in the corner.  
“Get him on his knees,” FRIDAY murmured to me.  
Two men out of the group rushed over to not-Yinsen and bent him over the anvil. Raza picked up an ember from the fire with the tongs and brought it over in front of Yinsen’s face.  
“هل تعتقد لي أحمق؟ قل لي ما كنت بناء.” Raza demanded.  
“Do you think me a fool? Tell me what you are building,” FRIDAY repeated to me.  
“أريحا!” Yinsen cried.  
“Jericho,” FRIDAY said.  
“ماذا بناء!” Raza screamed.  
“What are you building,” FRIDAY translated.  
“أريحا!” Yinsen insisted.  
“Jericho,” FRIDAY repeated.  
“What do you want? A delivery date?” I asked, stepping towards Raza and Yinsen where they were in front of the furnace. As I stepped closer the goons in the room all took a step forward and started yelling. I stopped and raised my hands before shouting over the goons, “I need him. He’s a good Assistant.”  
Raza looked at me for a moment before dropping the coal in front of Yinsen’s face. “You have until tomorrow to assemble my missile,” he snarled, before walking out of the room, goons in tow.

We pounded out the last pieces of the suit in silence, until I began working on Yinsen’s helmet. Something must have drawn his attention to me, because he asked me if I would like to hear a story.  
I paused with my hammer lifted in the air and met his eyes across the room. I frowned and cocked my head, before telling him to knock himself out, and returning to my work.  
Not-Yinsen brought his wiring project closer so I could hear him easier, and began his tale. “My people had a tale, it was about a Prince who was hated by his King. One day his King banished to the underworld, and jailed him there. The evil King gave the prince the most difficult labor he could imagine, working in the iron pits. Year after year the Prince mined the heavy ore, eventually becoming so strong he could crush pieces of it together with his bare hands. Too late, the King realized his mistake. When he went to the underworld and struck at the Prince with his finest sword in an attempt to kill him, the sword broke in half. The Prince, through his hard labour, had become strong as iron,” Yinsen finished as I dunked the helmet in the water next to the anvil and gently placed it on the table next to him.  
I frowned at the story, watching Yinsen as he observed the helmet I had just finished.  
After a moment Yinsen spoke. “I should be done with the wires in a few minutes, then we should be able to go… Stark, are you alright?” He asked, looking at me with concern.  
“Yeah, I just, I guess your story struck a chord with me,” I explained, picking the helmet back up with the tongs and walking over to the jig.  
When not-Yinsen finished with the wiring he came over and handed it to me for me to connect. Once I finished I opened up the old grimey computer I had used to code the basic programs for the suit. I began booting it up before hoisting the chestplate with the pre-installed arc reactor.  
As the computer began turning on I ushered Yinsen into the suit. He already had his gloves and the thick leather jacket on. I carefully lowered the chestplate into place until it settled and clunked into place. I glanced over my shoulder after the chestplate settled, and was glad to see the computer had booted up. I began the activation process immediately while not-Yinsen wiggled his fingers in the gloves. I tapped in function 11, command I and enter, before darting over and tightening the nuts on Yinsen’s suit.  
As I finished I kept glancing around the rig, waiting for the men to open up the door-slat and inquire after not-Yinsen, but they never did. After I finished with the nuts I lowered Yinsen’s helmet over his eyes and glanced back at the computer. The process was about a third of the way done. I glanced at the door again. The goons should definitely already have opened the door, I frowned. Was someone trying to rescue us, or were the goons just not concerned by not-Yinsen’s absence.  
I startled when the lights dimmed. FRIDAY informed me that the cameras were down, and I let the full suit cover me. Not-Yinsen dropped down from the jig when the clams auto released. I jogged over to the door and threw it open, charging into the hall. Yinsen thundered behind me. There were no guards until we barreled past the metal door two turns towards the exit. The men were running towards us, guns out, screaming. When they saw me they started firing, the bullets bouncing harmlessly off my suit while I charged them, but when Yinsen turned the corner the one that saw him stopped firing and screamed. I punched him in the face while taking two more out with repulsors. Yinsen ran up to me and punched one goon who was about to fire his gun at me. After a short scuffle not-Yinsen and I kept running towards the exit.  
We turned the third corner, and standing between us and the exit was Raza. He had a snarl on his face and a small bazooka in his hand. When he saw Yinsen and I he hefted the bazooka onto his shoulder, and aimed roughly between Yinsen and I, judging by FRIDAY’s calculations. I lifted my arm and aimed next to Raza’s head, not wanting to kill the man if I could avoid it. As Raza fired the bazooka I fired a strong repulsor into the rock next to his head. The rock exploded outwards, and FRIDAY confirmed as we ran past Raza’s slumped form that he was simply unconscious, and would be fine when he awoke.  
Bursting out of the cave and into the sunlight after so long in the cave was blinding, and I likely would have been blinded if not for FRIDAY darkening the HUD so that the light wasn’t too bright. Unfortunately, Yinsen didn’t have any way of darkening his field of vision, and raised an arm to cover his eyes. The goons that had gathered on the ground in front of us started firing in Yinsen’s moment of weakness, but with me standing half in front of Yinsen some of the bullets were deflected off my suit. As the men fired I lifted a little ways off the ground and positioned myself in front of Yinsen’s face to block the sunlight, and any bullets that might find their way to the eye holes in the helmet.  
As soon as Yinsen had adjusted to the brightness of the sun he flicked the hidden switch we had incorporated to get him off the ground, and shot off into the sky. I followed not far behind him, dropping small grenades all over the weapon displays that the ten rings had laid out.  
As Yinsen and I flew into the sky the weapons exploded beneath us, lighting up the surrounding mountains, and painting the earth with fire.


	3. Chapter 3

I sat with my head leaned back against the wall of the helicopter. I could hear Rhodey and Yinsen talking in the background, but was more focused on the display on the glasses that FRIDAY had made out of the suit. She had been trying for the last half hour to find and connect with EDITH to tricoordinate my position, and maybe figure out how to get out of whatever this was.  
FRIDAY was still searching for EDITH, so far all she had found was the 2008 version of JARVIS. After about fifteen minutes of searching FRIDAY had put up some news feeds on one lens of the glasses, reducing her search window to the upper corner of the other.  
I was watching a CNN report on ‘my’ disappearance, and how people were losing faith that I would be found, when Rhodey walked over and sat down next to me. He reached over and pulled the glasses off of my face. I looked over to him, irked, but calmed when I saw his expression. It was simultaneously one of relief and worry, and maybe a hint of annoyance.  
“Chill Platypus, I may be a genius, but even I have to sleep while constructing a giant flying robot,” I said, leaning forward and propping my elbows on my legs.  
“What?” Rhodey asked.  
“Annoyed. You look annoyed,” I said, looking over at him.  
“What? I-” Rhodey paused, and recognition flashed across his face. “Tones, I’m not annoyed at you, I’m annoyed that I wasn’t here earlier, and that you had to fight your way outta there.”  
I hummed, looking over at where Yinsen held the arc reactor in his lap, carefully twisting it in his hands, and observing the different sides of the crudely made device.  
Rhodey opened his mouth to say something when FRIDAY informed me that we were nearing the landing pad for the helicopter we were in, and I cut Rhodey off asking “Do you have a box?”  
He looked at me for a moment before frowning. “What for?” He asked.  
I pointed over at the reactor when it sat in Yinsen’s hands. “I’d prefer the whole world not know about that,” I said, glancing over at Rhodey where he sat next to me.  
After a moment he nodded, before getting up and grabbing a metal container with a couple chest latches. Yinsen looked up when Rhodey walked up to him, grasping the arc reactor tighter. They both looked over to me, and I nodded, before grabbing the glasses that Rhodes had set down on his seat when he had gotten up. I pushed them onto my face and focused on FRIDAY’s search progress. I watched the progress bar slowly inch across the screen until we landed.  
As we jumped off of the helicopter, FRIDAY suggested I call Pepper to let her know I was alive. I hummed in agreement, and as we were walking towards the shelters, I asked Rhodey if I could use his phone to call pepper. He nodded and handed me the phone, asking that I let him talk to Pepper before I hung up. I nodded, before dropping back a few steps for an air of privacy.  
The phone only rang once before Pepper picked up.  
“Rhodey! Is there any news on Tony?” Pepper asked from the other side of the line.  
“No, I’m uh, afraid we still haven’t found him Pep,” I replied in a light tone.  
I heard a gasp on the other end of the line before Pepper screamed. I jerked the phone away from my ear, surprised by the sudden noise. “Tony!” Pepper called after the screaming ceased.  
I carefully brought the phone back to my ear when she was done. “Hey, how’ve you been?” I asked calmly.  
I heard a sniff from Pepper before she responded with “Worried.”  
“You okay? It sounds a little like you’re crying over there,” I said carefully.  
“Heh, tears of joy,” She responded, “I hate job hunting.”  
I frowned for a moment, realizing that Pepper might not have memories from 2023. “How’s Morgan,” I asked after a moment.  
“Who?” Pepper asked, worry seeping into her voice.  
“I, it’s nothing,” I hurried to say.  
I could practically hear her frown on the other side of the phone.  
“Anyway, I’m fine. I’m going to be bringing a friend back with me, if you could find a way to get him a visa I would be very appreciative, but if you can't, I'm sure I can figure something out,” I said, already trying to figure out whether or not FRIDAY could make convincing paper out of the nanobots.  
“Name?” She asked.  
“Ho Yinsen,” I replied. “I imagine you could make it up and then send the file here for them to print,” I suggested.  
I could hear Pepper despite her pulling the phone away from her mouth as she spoke.  
“JARVIS, would you mind making a visa for Ho Yinsen?” Pepper asked, stumbling over Yinsen’s name.  
“Of course Miss Potts, I’ll have it done in a moment. Should I email it to the military base as Mr. Stark suggested?” JARVIS asked calmly.  
I froze when I heard JARVIS on the other end of the line. My hand not holding the phone flew to my mouth, my stomach fluttering. I saw Rhodey turn around, frown, and make his way back towards me. I could see his mouth moving, but couldn’t hear anything he said. I couldn’t feel his hand as it landed on my shoulder and shook me, and I was only vaguely aware of my surroundings changing as he shook me.  
Rhodey took the phone out of my hand, he must have, because a moment later he was talking on the phone. A moment later had Rhodey tucking the phone into his shoulder and taking my shoulders in his hands and shaking me gently. I looked him dead in the eyes, and he shivered, pulling me to walk next to him.  
Yinsen came over towards us, the box with the arc reactor clutched in his hands. He looked to Rhodey and must have said something, because his lips moved. Rhodey must have responded, because a moment later I was being traded for the box that Yinsen was holding, and Yinsen was gripping my shoulders. He stared at me, and I met him head on, not blinking. He wrapped one arm around my shoulders and began guiding me towards the military base. I frowned as we walked, beginning to wonder why I couldn’t hear anything. I could feel myself re-centering, but the world around me was still silent.  
As we reached the base I pulled out of Yinsen’s grasp, waving a hand when he tried to grab me again. I scratched at my ear, trying to get rid of the tingling feeling, when the sensation vanished, and the sounds of the world spilled back into my ears. I frowned, before a light smile found it’s way onto my face, realizing that FRIDAY had made sound canceling earplugs so that I wouldn’t get overstimulated.  
When Rhodey opened the door the first person to greet us was a man in a tan military uniform that handed Yinsen his visa. Yinsen’s eyebrows rose at the visa that had been placed in his hands, looking over to me. I smiled at him and patted his back, following Rhodey, who was speaking into the phone.  
“Yes, Pepper, we will be on the plane back to Malibu as soon as we can. We’re waiting on the plane at the moment,” he said. He paused as Pepper said something, and quickly answered, “tell Obadiah that Tony’s fine, and we’ll meet him at the beach house. No, Pepper, it’s a 16 hour flight, we won’t be back in time for breakfast. Why are you up so late anyways?” Rhodey paused as Pepper spoke to him. “Yeah, keep it from the press ‘till we get home, and go to sleep, yeah?” He laughed before wishing Pepper good night and hanging up the phone.  
Yinsen wasn’t far behind us, and when Rhodey put the phone away, he asked who Pepper was.  
“She’s Tony’s assistant,” Rhodey said turning to Yinsen. He was obviously about to say more when I interrupted him.  
“People say she’s just my assistant, but really she runs the whole show, all I do is say yes or no, don’t let anyone tell you different,” I admitted, brushing past Rhodey and towards the chairs next to his desk.  
Yinsen hummed and walked over to join me, while Rhodey raised his eyebrows at me and sat behind his desk. “Never thought you’d be the one to admit to that,” Rhodey mused as he put the box with the arc reactor in it on the desk as he sat.  
“Yeah, well,” I shrugged. “She and JARVIS do all the work, I just think and tinker.”  
Rhodey hummed, looking at the papers scattered across his desk. He sighed heavily before gathering them up and sticking them here and there in drawers.  
“Platypus, has anyone ever told you the wonders of a folder?” I asked, a smile on my face.  
Rhodey looked up from where he had been shuffling papers in one of the drawers, before commenting, “I am like 90% sure you didn’t know what a folder was before MIT Tony.”  
“Touché, Rhodey, touché,” I said, raising my hands in surrender.  
Yinsen looked at us for a moment before he began looking around the base, taking in everything he could see.  
Rhodey was just putting away the last of the papers when a man walked over. “Colonel Rhodes, you ready to go?” He asked, tapping Rhodey’s desk to get his attention as he spoke.  
“General Gabriel sir, yes, we are ready to go,” he said, pushing the drawer closed, and grabbing the arc reactor box as he stood.  
The general nodded to Rhodey before leading us out through the base and onto the tarmac again. This time we walked towards the planes rather than the bustling zone around the helicopters. The airplane we boarded was small, tan, and the only decal being the US Army logo on the side. The inside of the plane was comfortable, but not in the way I was generally used to. However, after being on enough arial missions with cap I was used to planes being sub par.  
We settled into the seats, and I buckled myself in, relaxing in the seat, remembering Rhodey’s earlier comment about a 16 hour plane ride.

When the plane set down in Malibu I had slept for 14 of the 16 hours we had been in the air. Well rested and excited to be back on American soil, I wasted no time getting off of the plane and onto the Tarmac. Happy had pulled up right behind the plane after it had stopped, and he and Pepper were standing by the passenger side of the car waiting for Yinsen and I.  
I waved goodbye to Rhodey after pulling him into a tight hug, and led Yinsen over to Pepper to introduce them.  
“Yinsen, this is Pepper, she’s my PA, Pepper, this is Yinsen, um…” I glanced to where Yinsen was standing beside me. “He’s a doctor,” I explained.  
Pepper and Yinsen shook hands, and Happy opened the back door for me. “Alright Pep, let’s get going,” I called walking towards the back seat.  
Pepper moved towards shotgun, and Yinsen moved to sit with me in the back seat. I ended up behind Happy, where he sat in the driver’s seat, and Yinsen sat behind Pepper. As soon as Pepper buckled her seatbelt she turned to Happy. “Take us to the hospital plese Happy, Tony-”  
“Is right here and perfectly fine. Pepper, would you mind calling for a press conference? Schedule it for uh… three days from now. That should be good. Happy, could you bring us to the house, I think that should be our first stop” I directed.  
Pepper huffed, but likely having seen the report the military made in reference to my injuries, or lack thereof, listened to me, (for once) and pulled out her phone.  
“Happy, I’ll be getting out at my apartment if you don’t mind,” Pepper asked as she dialed on the phone.  
“Of course Miss Potts,” Happy stated, before shifting into drive and driving off the tarmac.

Returning to the Malibu Beach House after seeing it destroyed a decade ago was a surreal experience. After so long in the cave I was hesitant to return to normal life, and dreaded coming to terms with the possibility that I would never see Morgan agai-  
I cut myself off before I could finish that thought, focusing instead on Yinsen’s reaction to the house.  
Yinsen’s eyes were wide as he looked at the house from the driveway where Happy had stopped. He took a deep breath as he regarded the house, before turning to me. “Happy to be home Stark?” He asked, a coy undertone to his voice.  
“I prefer the tower in New York if I’m being honest,” I replied, walking up the steps to the door, Yinsen not far behind me.  
Upon opening the door JARVIS called out to me. “Sir, while I am joyful of your return home, it appears there is an intruder on the balcony. They did not arrive by… conventional means. I locked the balcony doors, but they won’t leave,” JARVIS informed me.  
I groaned. “Buddy, if their on the balcony they probably can’t leave the way they came,” I retorted, already making my way towards the balcony doors. “Besides, their helicopter is probably long gone.”  
“They didn’t arrive on a helicopter sir…” JARVIS said, obviously avoiding telling me how they arrived.  
I didn’t need to be told however, the moment I saw the norse runes on the balcony, I knew that the intruder had been sent via bifrost. I fought the urge to scream at Heimdal, and made my way to the balcony, telling JARVIS to unlock the door as I went.  
When I stepped out onto the balcony I was met by a young man with straight, shoulder length blonde hair. He was dressed in a dark green tunic and green leggings, with soft leather boots that reached almost to his knee. He had a quiver of arrows over his left shoulder, and a longbow leaned against the half wall that surrounded the balcony.  
When I opened the door, he glanced over his shoulder at me. His ice blue eyes met mine, and I had to admit that with the ocean behind him and his reagle features he made quite the sight. At least until the wind blew a strand of hair into his slightly open mouth and he pulled it out with a frown.  
“The wind’s gonna pick up in a bit, you wanna come in?” I asked him, hoping he was able to understand the Allspeak, and I wouldn’t have to out myself by speaking low Asgardian.  
Fortunately, he gave a curt nod and grabbed the longbow from where it had rested next to him. As he passed into the house he did a rather bad job of trying to hide his interest. When I closed the balcony door he turned back to me and offered his hand for me to shake. “I am Legolas Greenleaf of Alfheim. I came as soon as I found you,” he said, face serine. Only when he finished speaking did I notice the tips of his pointy ears poking out of his hair.  
Almost out of earshot I heard Happy whispering to Yinsen from where they were hiding in the doorway.  
“My name is Tony Stark, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance Lord Greenleaf,” I replied in proper Aiser tradition, while reaching out to shake his hand. “This is my advisor Yinsen Ho, and my bodyguard Harold Hogan,” I said, gesturing to where Happy and Yinsen were hovering in the doorway.  
“Please, the honor is mine, it has been many lifetimes since the Norns have chosen an Allfather,” Legolas insisted.  
I frowned at this, unsure of what he meant. “Hasn’t Odin been the Allfather for centuries?” I asked, confused.  
“Yes, but the Norns did not choose him. His grandfather, Buri, declared the title of Allfather to be hereditary when the Norns did not chose another by his 4,500th year. Thus because another Allfather hadn’t been chosen by the Norns by the time of his coronation, Odin became the Allfather,” Legolas explained.  
I frowned while asking, “Who is the chosen Allfather?”  
Legolas opened his mouth before pausing with a confused look on his face. “Why that would be you,” He answered slowly.  
I stared at him in disbelief for a moment before gesturing for him to wait, and walking quickly out onto the balcony where the wind was gusting. “Heimdal!” I screamed, tilting my head towards the sky. Barely a moment passed before I felt a tingling at the base of my skull, and the world around me shifted.

When the world stopped spinning I found myself standing in a circular room with gears lining the inside wall. The gears and walls were gold, the floor marble, and the ceiling of the room was an open topped spire that granted a view of the stars above.  
“Allfather, I did not expect you to call so soon. The Norn’s alerted me of your arrival,” a voice behind me said.  
I turned and saw a man who seemed akin to the Heimdal the Asgardians had told tales of after they had come to earth.  
“Please, just call me Tony,” I said, looking at the dark skinned man before me. “May I ask your name?” I asked.  
“I believe, Tony,” He said, obviously uncomfortable calling me by my first name, “that you already know who I am. After all, you called out to me,” the man said.  
“Heimdal,” I muttered.  
“Indeed, Tony,” Heimdal said with a knowing glint in his soul stone orange eyes, “And with your knowledge, who knows what may change while you reign?” I looked at him for a moment. “You of all people must know that midgardians don’t live all that long compared to the others,” I argued.  
Heimdal hummed, and looked up through the spire in the ceiling. “There are remedies for that, and besides, I doubt the Norns would let their chosen Allfather leave before he had begun,” Heimdal mused. “You have great potential, Tony, and with your chosen advisors I have no doubt that the realms will be a different place before you leave to the halls of Valhalla,” Heimdal said, looking back to me.  
“Do you know if the realms would be better off if I didn’t claim my title?” I asked.  
“No-one can truly know the future, for knowing the future would change it. But if you were asking my opinion I would tell you I had no doubt in your intentions. Whether that led to good or bod,” Heimdal paused, “I believe that is a question that only the Norns may answer.”  
“The road to hell is paved with good intentions” I mused, searching the stars for whatever it was he might have seen up there.  
“That it is, but knowing you I have no doubt that if you found yourself following the path to Hel you would move mountains to redirect your path in the direction of Valhalla,” Heimdal declared. “I believe your advisor would appreciate your return,” Heimdal mused, while gazing up through the spire of the ceiling, “he grows distressed in your absence.”  
“And how would I return to him?” I asked, looking around. “I get the feeling I am not actually here.”  
“You are perceptive, Tony. To return you must simply open your eyes,” Heimdal instructed.  
I frowned at his statement, but complied nonetheless, and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, I was on my balcony, as if I had never left.


End file.
